Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1887-03-24

"Well, Dan had been working there
for year." the good lady went on,
land Miss Smith said she'd noticed he
was getting dretful sort of uppish
lately, and because she gave him
talking to for smoking sweet-fern cigars
in bed, he told her he wasn't going to
be ordered round by no waman, if he
knowed hisself, so he up and left. and
she paying of him two dollars a week
and board!'
''Id given him something MORN
talking to- remarked Captain Flagg,
emphatically, as he knocked the ashes
from his pipe and rose to his feet. II
guess, Mary Jane" he continued, reach
ing for his hat, IN jest drift down to
Miss Smiths and see how the land lays
If she amt shipped any one, that's
the very place for Tad" With which
remark the Captain rolled out of the
door and down the street on his benev-
client errand, while Mrs. Flagg, having
finished clearing away the dinner
things, took up her knitting for the rest
of the afternoon.
Meanwhile, Tad and Polly were wan
dering about the premises, followed by
Bounce, who, being city-reared
puppy. seemed to find every thing as
delightfully."- novel and strange as did
Tad himself.
Il never thought the country was SO
NICE said Tad, with an expressive
sigh, as the two leaned over the garden
fence and looked down the wide quiet
street. An old-fashioned stage-coach,
drawn by three horses, was rumbling
along in the direction of the one hotel
locally called ''tahvern," which
boosted of room where General La
fayette had slept. Thrice week this
antiquated vehicle made the journey
between Bixport and Middleboro-a
f1ourishing inland town, twenty miles
distant-with the mails and an occa-
sional venturesome passenger Farther
down, at the end of the thoroughfare,
the masts of the MARY j." outlined
themselves against the sky, and a
glimpse of Bixport river, on its way to
the ocean, could be seen.
"Tspose you've lived here ever since
you were born" continued Tad, lit
tie wistfully. To have been reared in
a peaceful home like this, with the low
ing care of parents continually about
one, seemed to homeless, orphaned
Tad the very highest happiness earth
could afford.
Polly opened her eyes very wide in
deed
Why-don't you know? How fun
ny!' she exclaimed, turning wonder
ing face toward her companion.
AS Tap hadn't the slightest concep-
ton of her meaning, he shook his head
in silence.
''Of course, you don't, though"
said Polly, recollecting herself. 'Come
with me-" she said. soberly, touching
Tad on the arm; and, curious to know
her meaning he followed Polly through
the gate, and across the street to what
was locally known as the ''meetin'-
house lot" Behind the little old
weather-beaten wooden church. on
either side of which stood a row of sol
emn-looking poplars, was the village
burying- ground, into which, to Tad's
great wonderment, Polly silently led
the way.
A short distance from the entrance,
fiat, moss grown tombstone was
raised upon two slight brick elevations
at either end, on which, in almost il
legible letters, were the words:
"Sacred to the memory OF
DEBORAH SAYLES.
AGED -.
Killed by We Indians.
June We 81, A. D. 1874
Sitting down on the old stone as on
a bench. Polly motioned Tad to seat
beside her. just in front of them stood
plain white marble slab.
Read it, briefly said Polly, in :.
very low tone, as she pointed to the in
scription.
Awed by Polly's manner, as well rs
by the solemn stiffness. only broken by
the breathing of the soft south wind
through the leafless branches overhead,
Tad read, in a subdued voice:
50 Here lies
the body of very beautiful
unknown lady-one of the passengers
on board the ill-fated steamer 'Pomerania''
which went ashore near the mouth
of Bixport river, in the great gale of February
"a 1862
Seventyone souls were lost.
Floating hair all tangled and torn
Beautiful head laid low on the sand
Pride all out OF the arching lips
Life all out of the marble hands
Oh terrible. restless trembling sea,
How could you leave her alone with death?
Clasping her close in a cold embrace
And stealing away the last faint breath?"
CHAPTER VII
..Mr. Allen, our minister, took that
verse from a paper, and had it cut on
the stone-isn't it beautiful softly said
Polly.
Eyes, indeed" returned Tad. consid-
erably bewildered, ''only L don't see
what it has to do with YOU"
wait! l am going to tell you all
about it," his companion responded.
But she sat for moment or two with
out speaking, resting her chin in the
hollow of her small hand. and her dark
ewes looking far off seaward. Through
the hushed stiffness, the distant voice
of the ocean came to their ears, sound
ing soft and low, like the imprisoned
echoes that one hears in sea-shell.
1T was IN the great gale of 60. when
fifteen vessels and hundred and
twenty men were lost on Georges
Banks" said Polly, abruptly. The
'Pomerania' drove ashore on some
reefs at the mouth of the river. near
where the lighthouse stands now. A
fisherman came up to Bixport, and
told people about it. Every body-the
mon I mean-rot dow, to the Doint